


Saltimbocca

by Astray



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gen, Gounod's Faust, Hannibal Cooks, It could have been worse, Mentions of Character Death, Off-screen Character Death, The Author Regrets Nothing, Will had a culinary change of heart, gratuitous description of cooking, maybe I am pushing it, the author likes cooking too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 02:43:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astray/pseuds/Astray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal is having Will for dinner, and so, spends a long time in the kitchen. Unfortunately, his efforts go to waste. </p><p>Rating is because of what Hannibal cooking meat implies. And who is being served as the main course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saltimbocca

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Plume Blue](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Plume+Blue).



> First Hannibal fanfic ever. (And a request.) There will be no slash in it, just extensive cooking sessions. Simply because I cannot get over Hannibal's skills in the kitchen and I just want him to teach me.  
> Also, I cannot spoil the end of my story, just that this story takes place before ep 10 - I think... And that the character death mentioned here is not canonical in the slightest. I acted on impulse. 
> 
> Saltimbocca roughly means 'that jumps in the mouth'. It's actually very good. (Liver al Balsamico came from a random search because I do not eat it myself.)

It started as a very fine autumn day. He did his 'shopping', came back home and set out to cook. This is going to be a fine evening as well, if everything goes according to plan. No reason for it no to – he was used to the fact that everything ever goes according to plan. Even in more difficult circumstances. He laid out his menu. Better start with the liver al balsamico... The saltimbocca would need some work but it was always better done right before serving. And so he set to work, listening to Gounod's 'Faust'. It was a classic, but he never tired of René Pape's interpretation of Mephistopheles. The irony was not lost to him. He worked with an efficiency that only rivalled with his concentration. Nothing was left unattended, no unneeded moved. There might have been a reverence of some kind in the care with which he handled the spices, left the sage to dry up. On a whim, he added some water to the balsamico. To some it would have been sacrilegious. However, he feared that it would be a bit too thick for his purpose – the taste too pronounced, overshadowing that of his prima materia. Indeed, it was an alchemy, obtaining gold from lowly lead. As soon as the liver was correctly prepared, he set it aside on a warm plate. Anything left in the frying pan were déglacé with the balsamico, so as not to loose anything. Usually, it was a side of cooking that was overlooked, but he had found that it gave a greater... depth... to a dish. His sauce ready and waiting in a small vat, he could set out to work on the saltimbocca. The secret resided in the thinness of the slices of meat, and, of course, the quality of the prosciutto used. And so, with great care he sliced the scallops into smaller parts, closer to bites. Then add the prosciutto – in morsels, so they fit the scallopine. A sage leaf and half-a-toothpick. Just add a touch of Marsala, cream and that was it. 

Will was right on time. It was one thing that Hannibal found very commendable about him. Punctuality was paramount, especially in case of dishes that needed to spend as little time as possible waiting. As he served the antipasti, he could not help but notice how his friend was looking paler than usual. Certainly a consequence of all the strain under which he was. He found himself wondering why he was so protective of Will's well-being. Just as another side of him knew perfectly that friendship would not stand up to his own survival. But Will needn't know that for now, did he? What surprised him, however, was how Will's pallor took on a sickly characteristic when faced with his plate. Surely it could not be the food – Will had always been appreciative of his cucina, why should it change. However, such a change was not to be discarded, as he would be a very poor host if he did. 

“Will, are you alright?”

The look Will gave him was enough to see everything going through his mind. Turmoil, indecision, and most of all, fear. It was not a fear he was used to encounter, it was much tamer, not unlike that of a man who has to say something they would rather not say for fear to offend. It was a look he often encountered in his work as a psychiatrist. So, he encouraged him to voice whatever it was that sat ill on his mind. 

“I am so sorry, Dr. Lecter... It's just that... I can't find myself being able to eat any meat these days.”

Oh, that was rather unusual. Though he could guess the reason, that hedonistic part of his mind just baulked at the thought of someone not indulging in fine cuisine. He shook himself, knowing full well that no indication of his current thoughts appeared on his features. After all, you have to have a very good poker face to do his job. 

“It's quite alright, Will. However, it is unfortunate, as I had planned to treat you with saltimbocca alla romana.” He trailed off, on the look out for further indications of Will's discomfort. 

Not one to disappoint, Will looked down forlornly. “I apologize. I should have told you beforehand. I-”

“Do not worry about that. If you give me a few moments, I will make sure to find a way to accommodate you.”

“I don't want to be a bother or anything at all.” 

“Nonsense. I would be a dreadful host if I could not change anything so that my guest would feel comfortable.”

It took only instants for Hannibal to get the next course ready – he would cringe later at the loss of the saltimbocca – well, it was not really lost, after all there was always ways to keep his meals ready. He cut the asparagus' spears, the broccoli florets, made a short work of the dried tomatoes. He was particularly proud of these, as he dried them himself. In the oven, granted, but it was already a step forward. While the fettucine were simmering, he cut the Brussels sprouts, cleaned and sliced the mushrooms. Lucky thing he had purchased these on a whim. He carefully cooked the vegetables separately with a small amount of olive oil, making sure they were tender. The oil gave them a delectable sheen. At the last moment, he put the dried tomatoes with the fettucine so they could soak in – otherwise they would be needlessly salty. When he was finally done, he set the pasta in the pan that served for the vegetables, stirring swiftly. After setting the pasta in plates, he shredded some parmigiano reggiano and a tiny bit of lemon peel. Freshness was essential. 

As he set Will's plate in front of him, he gauged his reaction from the corner of his eye. The surprise he saw on his friend's face pleased him somehow, as always when he knew that he did his work as a host. 

“I hope this will be to your liking: fettucine con asparagi, broccoli e pomodori secchi.” 

He sat down, waiting for Will to start. It was only polite after all. Hannibal was nothing if not polite. And if he were absolutely honest with himself, he would say that he felt a rare sense of pride when Will made an appreciative sound after his first bite. Hannibal was certain that Will never intended to make it but it was there.

They ate in companionable silence for a moment. Hannibal waited dessert – a panna cotta accompanied with various fruits – to ask the question that had been occupying his mind. 

“I do not mean to pry, but is there any reason for you to stop eating meat?” It was only meat, so obviously, Will did not succumb to this – rather preposterous – vegan craze. 

“It's fine, really. The cases, I guess. Been a bit too much for me as of late. I cannot help but being reminded of the cases everytime I see meat.”

“I take it you are still no closer to the Chesapeake Ripper as you originally were.”

“No. It's quite frustrating. I know I'm close but sometimes I feel like I am mixing things up and I can't pull myself back together.” He made a pause, taking a deep breathe. “You would probably tell me it's weird... associating meat with corpses. It's like... these people, they were nothing but cattle in a sense.”

“Made you self-conscious about cattle, did it?” He tried not to let anything slip but he could not help wanting to shake his head. Cattle was cattle, no matter how you looked at it. Animals ready for the slaughter, in all honesty.  
“Told you it was weird.”

“Will, you have a greater empathy than others. I would never tell you that it is weird – or that it is not. I am a psychiatrist, but also, your friend. It is not my place to cast a judgement over what you think.” Seeing the suspicious glance sent his way, he had to amend it slightly. “I do not judge you, but I may have to label it. As things are, I believe you cannot be blamed for your reactions.”

It made him even more aware of the chasm that existed between them. After Will went his own way, Hannibal wrapped the untouched liver and saltimbocca in different containers, carefully labelling them. He would not need to think about tomorrow's lunch, which was a good thing. Maybe he would drop by to see Abigail. A shame that Jack Crawford was not around anymore. He probably would have appreciated his efforts with the saltimbocca. 

Days later, Jack Crawford was reported as missing. While absently listening to the news, Hannibal was enjoying his lunch in the company of Abigail. That saltimbocca was divine indeed with slices of polenta.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for my own amusement, so I decided to go all the way in my evilness. Yeah, I am mean but it's something my mind had been playing with for a while now. 
> 
> I will write a crackfic where Hannibal acts like your typical Italian grandma, asking Will 'What, you don't like my cooking, that's it?' Maybe... 
> 
> Feedback is welcome, I would love to hear from you, if your survived so far.


End file.
